Farewell, free stuff

This general election marks the end of an era. What comes next is rather less clear

GO ON: have a vote in the general election on May 6th. Tell you what, since it's you, I'll chuck in the local elections too: buy none, get another one free. In fact, here's what I'm gonna do: I'll give you this general election now, and you can pay for it later. And believe me, love, you won't get an offer like this one again, not for a long time. You really won't.

Some general elections mark the end not only of governments but of historical eras too. The one in 1945 signified the end of pre-war social atomisation and adumbrated the birth of the welfare state; the election of 1979 marked the demise of the post-war economic settlement. The election called by Gordon Brown after his visit to the queen on April 6th also coincides with the end of an era: the passing of the era of free stuff. The contest will in a sense be a referendum on that giddy age; its freebies and excesses—big and small, public and private, enjoyed by rich and poor alike—will loom over the campaign. The new era that lies on the other side of polling day, however, is less well defined.

The big free stuff includes much of the infrastructure upgrade of the past decade. Many of the new schools, hospitals and other gleaming facilities of which Labour will boast in the next month were constructed under the private-finance initiative, and so have largely not been paid for yet. And the country has belatedly realised that it hasn't settled the bill in full even for those things it thought it had bought upfront. Instead the government ran a fiscal deficit that was irresponsible in the fat years and became calamitous in the lean ones. Last year it was £167 billion, or 11.8% of GDP. Debt is the elephant in the polling booth.

There has been plenty of free stuff for individuals too. Almost the same number of people subsist on state benefits—over 5m—as when Labour came to power. This is one of the most damning statistics of its time in office, and it deserves to be aired frequently during the campaign. And while too many have-nots have been left freely to rot, many of the haves have been having more than they could afford. There is a theory that the invention of the credit card ruined capitalism, by breaking the link between effort and reward. It has some relevance to contemporary Britain, whose citizens are more heavily indebted than those of any other big economy. They have been insulated from the consequences by low borrowing costs—but probably will not be for long.

Meanwhile, too many MPs helped themselves to all manner of free stuff of their own: free home renovations, free manure, duck houses and so on. One of the main mysteries of the election is whether the parliamentary-expenses scandal will galvanise turnout on polling day, or whether a wholesale disenchantment with politicians will depress it. (The various plans for parliamentary and constitutional reform, touted by party leaders this week as compensation for their colleagues' greed, are unlikely to assuage the ire.) And for most of the noughties politicians were blessed with a more intangible, but, in its way, equally corrupting luxury: an apparent freedom from hard decisions, such as deciding between holding direct taxes down and raising public spending, or between compassion for the poor and concern for its price.

This is the context of the election. The glut of free stuff is over. Everyone knows it, both the politicians and, in their bones, many voters. But there's an unfortunate problem with free stuff. People find it hard to give up, even if they know they ought to.

Vote now, pay later

Apart from MPs' soft furnishings, free stuff remains inconveniently popular. Even if they realise that the bill will have to be met eventually, voters like refurbished schools and magically multiplying doctors; they crave tax cuts, but would prefer them to carry no obvious cost in lost services and privileges. This is the awkward if predictable evidence of recent public-opinion polling. The upshot is that this election's obsequies for the era of free stuff will be mostly euphemistic, relying on the weaselly vocabulary of “tough choices”, “efficiencies” and “transparency” rather than gritty specifics. In the early days of campaigning this week, even those platitudes were uttered only rarely.

The Conservatives' label for the dying epoch is the “age of irresponsibility”, a tag they once laudably applied to profligate householders as well as to the government. But these days the Tories are quieter about the “age of austerity” that was once the corollary. Their avowed fiscal conservatism is clouded by their pet inheritance-tax cut and tax break for marriage. Their notion of the “Big Society”—in which public-sector monopolies would be broken up and power devolved to communities—is as close as the election is likely to come to a Big Idea. But it is only indirectly and remotely a plan for saving money. For his part, Mr Brown is obliviously pledging more state activism and better public services. The Liberal Democrats are only marginally more frank.

Now, it is only natural that politicians are striving to make the post-free-stuff era sound like a happy opportunity rather than purgatory. But the risk is that a campaign that might have served as a cathartic transition instead leaves the nation woefully unprepared for what is to come: tax rises (VAT is the obvious candidate), public-sector cuts for which swingeing may be too kind an adjective, as well as, eventually, higher interest rates. An election that was supposed to re-forge trust between politicians and the electorate could end up shattering it even more. Whoever wins (if indeed someone does) will probably boast only a slim and shallow mandate, and incur swift and deep unpopularity.

So, in a way, this general election is itself set to be a freebie: the last hurrah of the free-stuff era, as well as a requiem for it. The country is indeed being invited to vote now and pay an unspecified price later. The real sales pitch for it should be: dissatisfaction guaranteed, and no money back.